


honeyed lips (lie best)

by solitariusvirtus, tenten_d



Series: to this hour [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Bastardy, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Half-Sibling Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenten_d/pseuds/tenten_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unable to hold onto his calm demeanour any longer, Aegon slammed his fist against the tabletop. "Seven Hells, woman, why are you punishing me? Have I not done everything in my power to be agreeable to you?" Visenya's cool gaze only fuelled his frustration. Her sullen silence aggravated the foulness of his mood. "Speak, or I shall make a mute of you and then you won't ever utter a single word again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	honeyed lips (lie best)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hanhreus](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Hanhreus).



> Have some Aegon/Visenya, since you like the ship so much.

i. "Visenya, this has gone on long enough," Aegon sighed, catching his half-sister by the arm. "You cannot keep running away from your responsibilities." She regarded him with narrowed eyes, her whole body locked in strange passivity.

"I disagree," she said simply. Her gaze challenged him. Aegon clenched his teeth together, frustration creeping upon him. "My dear brother," she called him, her tone only slightly mocking, "whatever made you think that I would take your words to heart."

Shaking his clasp off, Visenya gave him an odd little smile. It was the same smile that had most courtiers melting at her feet.

Visenya Blackfyre left him standing there, pondering her words.

ii. "There are times when I wish to be back in Essos," Jon disclosed. He brushed his hair back, the mindless grace reminiscent of their father. Visenya looked up from her book. "You are too hard on the man."

"Not at all," she disagreed softly. "Trust me, brother mine, I know what I am doing."

Jon shook his head. "He will be your king one day. Perhaps it is not wise to antagonise him."

"That is still years away," Visenya laughed. "By the time Aegon takes the throne, I'll be too old for him to want. Besides, Rhaenys is with child."

"Is that why you are avoiding our brother?" The question startled her.

"One of the many reasons."

iii. Stroking her round middle, Rhaenys hummed a melody in the back of her throat. "It will be a son, I know it will," she declared with conviction. "Aegon, come feel this."

Unable to resist the beckoning, Aegon put away the sword he had been admiring in the sunlight. He placed a hand to Rhaenys' middle gingerly. He waited, counting in his mind backwards in Valyrian. "I cannot feel a thing."

Rhaenys was rather unfortunate in that she could not seem to carry a child to term. She was blameless, of course, as the affliction could not be controlled. And yet, Aegon would need an heir. Eventually.

iv. Lyanna wept, holding her face in both hands. Her hair had been freed from the intricate braids she'd worn of late. The curtain of tresses flowed about her, dishevelled. Visenya held her mother by the shoulder, but it was Jon who kept her upright.

"Valar morghulis," her brother whispered softly.

The King had died peacefully, in his sleep. The Maesters had no explanation, safe that the gods have called him back into the fold on the eternal.

Rhaegar Targaryen burned and with him the joy of Lyanna Stark.

It would give none cause to wonder that the beloved of the King would follow close behind.

v. The Crowning of Aegon the Sixth Targaryen was of such splendour that Visenya thought most people had forgotten the old King already. Of course, the realm needed a king. She did not begrudge her half-brother that position.

And yet Jon's warning had nearly come to pass. Aegon was King, and kings were seldom refused what they desired.

"Sister," he called to her, holding a hand out, "join us." Rhaenys was clearly unhappy, but she held her silence on account of having expelled from within her a long-awaited child yet again.

"If it please Your Majesty," she replied. Jon led her there himself.

vi. The candles burned, wax melting, light flickering. Visenya stood hear the fire in the hearth, warming herself. In less than a year she had lost both father and mother. And they had had such little time together. The injustice of it hurt.

But, what rankled more, was that even Jon was leaving. "You could stay," she told him. "Stay here with me."

"As the bastard of a dead King?" Jon gave her a long look. "I came to court because I knew it was the only way I could convince mother to. She is gone now. Our father is gone. What else is there to keep me here."

"Me," Visenya replied resentfully. "I am still here. Don't I matter?"

"You do not need me."

vii. Unable to hold onto his calm demeanour any longer, Aegon slammed his fist against the tabletop. "Seven Hells, woman, why are you punishing me? Have I not done everything in my power to be agreeable to you?" Visenya's cool gaze only fuelled his frustration. Her sullen silence aggravated the foulness of his mood. "Speak, or I shall make a mute of you and then you won't ever utter a single word again."

"What do you want me to say?" her voice cracked like a whip. "I cannot give you what you want."

Aegon leaned back in his chair. "Can't you?"

viii. Weary of fighting him at every turn, tired of being honourable – as honourable as a bastard could be, anyway – Visenya gave in. She leaned into his touch and allowed him to do with her as he wished. After all, there was no one to protect her. No one but Aegon.

The laces gave way and his fingers brushed softly against her skin. Visenya shivered. A knot formed in her throat and the pressure grew in her chest. "Visenya, I do love you," Aegon promised. "You shall be happy with me."

She would be just another version of her mother.

ix. Elia Martell held her distraught daughter in her arms, whispering words of comfort in her hair. She had named her daughter Rhaenys to ensure the girl would be loved. The first Aegon had loved Rhaenys best.

"I cannot give him a child, mother," the young woman wept. "All my babes are dead."

Not a single one had even been born. Elia held her daughter even tighter. "Hush, my child, 'tis no fault of yours. The gods have not seen fit to give you children, but you are still Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

"What use have I of a crown?"

x. Gael Blackfyre was born, not unlike her predecessor of the same name Gael Targaryen, in the winter. Visenya could see the wonder in Aegon's face as he held his daughter. "She likes you, Your Majesty," the mother commented, a small smile on her face.

"And so she should." Even before her birth, Aegon had had the papers drawn to have the child legitimised even before she was born. The dowager Queen had been angered, yet she could do nothing. The Queen had protested, yet Aegon would not be swayed.

"Gael, my beautiful Gael." The father rocked the child gently. "My little princess."

He finally understood what his departed father had felt for his beloved she-wolf. He understood, for he felt it within his chest and in his mind, whenever he clapped eyes on Visenya. And his daughter.


End file.
